"Don't fucking talk about Wes, you fucker," Gunn told him politely, keeping his arms crossed but visibly tensing ever more. Bobby put a hand on his shoulder briefly, hoping it would relax him a little. Didn't look like it.

He stepped closer, shrugging. "I don't mind, we can say hello from a distance. See, they told me you're hard to crack. I think they're idjits." Also, why did they want a random list of names from him? Quite the waste of a King of Hell, as Bobby had yelled at them about. He turned to look at Gunn. "You can leave, if you want."

Gunn hesitated, his eyes still on the demon. "You can't trust him."